


two feet standing on a principle

by tumsa



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst, Break Up, Happy Ending, M/M, Model Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumsa/pseuds/tumsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they pretend to still be a couple and it's a disaster until it's not.<br/>(Harry is a famous fashion model and Louis works at the mall, nobody knows they broke up two weeks ago.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	two feet standing on a principle

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [two feet standing on a principle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362095) by [larryismyreligion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryismyreligion/pseuds/larryismyreligion)



> Title from "Still" by Daughter. This is inspired by "Unsaid" by The Fray and my all time favorite story "The Good Times Are Killing Me" by minor_hue that I have read maybe 50 times or more, so you may see some parallels. 
> 
> This is not a story about cheating. Also it's a result of my imagination.
> 
> _They will teach you all kinds of things at school, how to dissect a frog or why Dickens wrote "Great Expectations" or how Newton's first law of motion works, but nobody tells you how to deal with all these crazy emotions and feelings, like love and hope and anger and jealousy, there is no course or lessons about how to be together with someone and not fail at it, how to not fight and how to forgive, yet everyone is expected to know all these things and be good at them, and it's hard, because Louis is young and he still sometimes calls his mum to ask if his shirt can be washed in a washing machine or should it be hand washed or what to use to get coffee stains out of the carpet, most of the time he feels like a blind man stumbling and trying to guess the right way._

_and we are leaving some things unsaid_  
 _and we are breathing deeper instead_

It's weird, Louis thinks, that people who love you the most are the ones that can hit you the hardest. Maybe it's because they know you better than anyone else, they know how to wound you with a single word, know all your insecurities and weak spots, know where to press to make you bleed or maybe it's because your love makes you blind to their actions, you don't realize they are hurting you on a purpose, you still trust them to tell the truth, still believe and take every hit to your heart, let it break, even when you know better, even when you know they are crushing you to the dust. It's weird, that people who were always there to catch you end up being the ones who make you fall. And it's weird that you end up hating people you loved with all your heart so much that you can't even stand being in the same room with them, when once there was a time you couldn't sleep from those butterflies buzzing in your tummy, wondering how their lips would taste and how your hands could be a perfect match. It's weird, but Louis is used to it all, lived through what everyone around them called a fairtytale, lived until it ended with no happily ever after, lived through scary shouting matches and even scarier silences, and went from _we can get through this_ to _is it even worth it_ to _i never want to see you again_ , and what made him silently cry in a bathroom a month ago makes him laugh cynically now. He is sure there is nothing that Harry can say or do to hurt him more than he already did, there is nowhere to fall anymore, his heart is at the bottom at the darkest pit and even though it still hurts, leaves him breathless from pain sometimes, at least it can't get any worse.

The thing is though, even when they slowly ruined each other, they still loved their friends and family, and even when Louis spent a night walking aimlessly around the city because he didn't want to go to their flat and didn't want to fight, and didn't want to go to his old flat because it felt like giving up, he never told anyone about it. When Stan asked, how Harry is, he said  _good, good, great actually_ , and smiled, when his mum called to ask when her boys are planning to visit her, he replied  _soon, maybe next month_ , even though he was thinking about moving out, and he knew Harry was acting the same way, because Niall tweeted them _missing my boys, less work, more parties @LouisTommo @HarryS_ and Gemma texted Louis to ask about their New Year plans and maybe celebrating together _if lovebirds don't have plans already xx_ , and Louis knew they shouldn't lie to their friends, knew it was getting out of their hands, but he couldn't just deal with the guilt of hurting one more person, didn't want to hear their sorries and advises, didn't want to make them take sides. So when Gemma throws him a "surprise" birthday party, he gets out of his bed, showers and shaves and finds some clean clothes, pretends he didn't just go to bed after twelve hour long shift at the mall and tells Harry that _whatever, yes, he will go_ and _yeah, sure, they can not tell them_ , because that is the only thing they can agree on - not ruining Christmas for their friends.

He hasn't seen Harry for two weeks and no matter how hard he tries to deny it, part of him still wants and longs, because that's the thing, right? You can't unlove someone and can't unlearn to miss them on a spot, and even when you want to punch them so hard to break their bones, you still remember warmth of their hug and softness of their whispers against your neck, and maybe, Louis thinks (and it's a terrifying thought), maybe part of him will love Harry until his heart stops beating. He thinks that maybe it's the glory of first love, that burning feeling never leaving your thoughts and fucking you up in the nicest ways (not sleeping enough just to have more hours to be together, not buying your favorite ice cream and buying his, spending your last money on stupid things like matching t-shirts, enjoying sickly sweet love songs and singing along them, holding hands all the time even when it would be easier not to, kissing him with a morning breath and finding it cute instead of disgusting, kissing him to annoy your friends, kissing him because it's your favorite activity, posing for cameras you used to hate because you want cute couple photos to frame and put on your walls, moving out from your flat because your home is where his heart is, talking about scary things like future and dreams and plans, waking up early just to eat breakfast with him, having all your firsts with him).

Right now Harry is leaning against his shiny black car in the parking space next to Louis' apartment building, dressed in what has to be expensive designer clothes, looking perfectly polished as always, and Louis feels small and fragile. Harry looks stunning and Louis looks anything but that, black shadows painted around his eyes from all the sleepless nights, clothes loose because he has lost weight, working more and eating less (he hates food, hates that it reminds him of Harry cooking breakfasts and surprise dinners, remembers to eat only when his stomach starts to ache and his head feels dizzy), he's tired, exhausted til bones from working, and his worn winter coat, black t-shirt and jeans with holes in them can't compete with Harry's long, black coat and its shiny buttons, posh white scarf and what looks like the tightest skinny jeans. Maybe they never were fitting together and Louis was too blind to notice, they came from so different worlds that it's a surprise it took them over two years to clash. Louis breathes in deeply and stands stronger, braces himself for whatever it is to come, remembers the last time Harry said _you can't dress like that, it's a red carpet event, for fucks sake_ , _Louis_. He learned how Harry loves and then learned how Harry hates, knows what to expect. 

When Louis comes up to Harry's car, Harry himself looks almost bored, typing something on a phone, barely noticing Louis, like Louis wasn't the love of his life (and he wasn't) and like he couldn't care less about Louis being there while Louis feels like he's burning up from the inside. There was a fairytale Louis' mum used to tell when he was a kid, about Ice Queen and a little boy and his sister, he doesn't remember it, doesn't remember what really happened or how it ended, but remembers that boy's heart was frozen and he couldn't feel a thing, and that's what Louis wants so desperately, because right now his own chest is seizing up, and he feels like chocking on thin air.

"You're late," Harry says, "get in the car," he adds and that's that. Louis doesn't bother to explain that he worked overtime to get some more hours and more money, because they threatened to cut off heating in the flat if he doesn't pay soon, because Harry doesn't care about Louis anymore (and because Louis always, always hated their talks about money, feeling like Harry's personal charity case). He gets in the car, fastens a seatbelt with shaky fingers and tries to relax. Harry starts the car and turns up the radio obviously not interested in talking and it's weird, because Louis doesn't know what to do instead, not used to being quiet and not talking with Harry or shouting at Harry, his mind seems to focus on stupid things like _the car smells like Harry_ or _my gloves are gone from the door storage_ and _there's still that sticker with a red heart on the glove compartment_ and he stares at the stupid sticker and thinks about the day he bought it in a gas station just to see Harry's horrified face when Louis "ruined his baby". Somehow despite Harry's protests the sticker stayed. And it's still there, a little bit worn off, with one rumpled corner, and Louis doesn't know what to make of it, doesn't know why Harry kept it and doesn't know if he's an idiot for thinking about it at all. Harry has three cars and he probably couldn't care less about a silly sticker in one of them. Harry probably doesn't even remember how it got there. And Louis is stupid for remembering. Fuck, he thought he was doing so well with  _getting over_ and _hating Harry_ and now he feels like he's at the stage one while Harry is acing his levels one after another. And Louis has always been a sore loser.

 

~*~*~

Louis fakes his surprise so well even Gemma believes he had no idea about the party at her house. In less than a month he has learned to lie to his friends and it should make him sad, but instead Louis feels grateful, he just needs to stick to the plan and get through the night, and it will be okay. He feels like he can do this.

"You look tired," Gemma says, taking Louis' coat after a quick hug and a kiss on his cheek, "I guess Harry was not joking when he said you're working all the time."

"You know how he is, Gems," Harry says stepping in front of Louis, hugging his sister tightly, and his voice sounds so calm, god, Louis doesn't remember when was the last time he heard Harry sound so sweet and loving, "never wants to take a penny from me."

And there it is, that cold tone that could be mistaken for Harry's sarcastic joking voice, but Louis knows better. He doesn't say anything though, tries and fails to keep a fake smile on his face as he hugs Niall and Stan. Niall is all smiles and laughs, glad to see his mates _finally_ , but Stan is frowning, Louis can feel his eyes lingering and prays that Stan will leave it alone. There are voices in the living room, lights being turned on, music starting to play. Louis saw Zayn, Liam, Perrie, Sophia, Barbara and Eleanor, Nick and some other Harry's friends he didn't really want to see at his party, but whatever, the bigger this party is, the easier it will be for him and Harry to play house. Maybe they won't even have to talk to each other much.

"Okay, boys," Gemma says as she hangs up Harry's and Louis' coats, "we need to get both of you drunk. And I think Ashton had a bottle of champagne somewhere. Let's celebrate this properly," she winks and puts her arm around Louis' waist to lead him to the living room. Louis feels Harry's eyes on him, and wonders if Harry is as thankful as he is that Gemma has stepped between them. Their friends had always teased them for being glued together, calling it _their thing_ , and Harry must remember that as well, must know that everyone expects them to be just like they always were and must be glad that Gemma is saving them.

He is surprised though when Harry says: "Gemma, let go of my boyfriend," pushes her aside and puts his hand where Gemma's was a moment ago. It's big and warm and fits perfectly like it always did, and Louis wants so badly to melt against it, but he feels Harry's fingers tremble slightly and it's a good reminder that nothing is like it used to be. Gemma laughs, teases her brother about always being so possessive, and says, _god, Harry, you have him every day, we haven't seen him for almost a month_ , but Louis can see her fond smile that is reserved for both of them. She and everyone else made Louis believe their love is more than something, each and every one of their friends had at one point said something about them being _one of a lifetime_ thing, there had been a lot of teasing and jokes, but there had also been a lot of sighs and _i wish i would have what you have_ and _you guys are so lucky_ , and that, Louis thinks, makes it so much harder to tell everyone that they were wrong. There is no such thing as soulmates and their forever didn't even last for three years. 

Louis lets Harry to lead them to a small table where Ashton and his famous bottle of expensive champagne is. Everyone gathers around them, they clink glasses and drink to Louis getting a year older even though his actual birthday is a day later. If anyone expects a toast from Harry, nobody says anything. Louis feels like his side is burning from Harry's palm and hopes that the buzz of champagne will make him forget.

 

~*~*~

For the past two weeks, after moving out of their place, Louis has been hiding at his old apartment, working long shifts after long shifts to earn money, and turns out Harry has done the same (the hiding part), everyone wants to talk to them, _long time no see_ and all that, so they have to stand next to each other even when all Louis wants is to run away and maybe find Ashton and ask him where Gemma hides her liquor. He feels like he's slowly running out of air and it comes as a surprise, because two weeks ago Harry made him angry and upset and miserable and full with hate, two weeks ago he didn't feel helpless and hopeless. He half expects that Harry will handle all the talking, since he seemed to be doing so great when they arrived, but well, nothing works like Louis expects, so when Perrie asks about their New Year plans and Harry just stands silently, Louis is the one who has to say "we haven't really had time to think about it," and his voice sounds so small and sad, that he wants to punch himself. But Perrie doesn't seem to notice, tells them about Gemma's idea to rent a house somewhere in Italy and all of them could go and for a moment Louis forgets and tells her that he can't afford it, and it's awkward as hell, Perrie frowning and looking at both of them, because it's obvious that Harry has enough money to buy an airplane, and then Harry's fingers are digging in his sides painfully and Harry is the one saving them, starts laughing about the joker Louis is and tells Perrie that they might go, maybe even spend a week or two there since Louis has always wanted to see Rome and Colosseum, and that's the final straw, Louis excuses himself and flees.

He pretends that he needs to go to a bathroom, runs up the stairs to the second floor, where everything is dark and quiet and thankfully empty, and opens the doors of a balcony at the end of the hallway. It's cold outside, but he needs fresh air to calm down and get his game together. Louis remembers the day Harry had to fly to Italy for a photoshoot soon after they moved in together, it was only for two days, so Louis didn't mind that much (it was harder when Harry had to go away for a week or two, when fashion weeks and new collections happened, when Louis couldn't sleep and ate burned toasts for breakfast and wondered that maybe he should quit his job like Harry wanted and fly around with him and hated himself for being that needy), Harry came back from Italy with amazing fashion photos, most of them were taken at Colosseum, and Louis could almost feel the sun and happiness just by looking at pictures. They spent that evening talking about Italy, (Louis seemed to know more about it than Harry did, but Louis watched a lot of _National Geographic_ as a kid and when his classmates traveled everywhere during the summer break, he made travel plans in his head and promised himself that one day he will travel around the world), Harry had cooked pasta with cheese and chicken and asked Louis if maybe they could go there on a vacation, they drank wine and made plans cuddling on their bed and that evening was still one of Louis' favorites. He thinks that maybe he underestimated the lack of cruelty Harry can possess, never expected Harry will taunt their most happiest times in front of everyone else, and thinks that it's horrible how anger and disappointment can change people, thinks about times when Harry couldn't hurt a fly and hugged people just because they looked lonely and times when Harry slammed bedroom door and told Louis to go fuck himself.

"Louis?" Stan brings Louis out of wondering about where things went wrong, stepping on a balcony next to him. Louis curses himself for believing his best friend wouldn't be his best friend and notice something is wrong. "Are you okay?" 

"'m cold," Louis says, because that's one truth he can say. He's wearing only a t-shirt and it's snowing, big, white snowflakes landing on the tiled floor of the balcony they both stand on. Stan takes off his jacket without asking and puts it around Louis' shoulders. It's a tiny gesture, something that Harry used to do a lot, because Louis was often cold, and god, his brain is so stupid tonight, because every little thing reminds him about Harry and he just wants it to _stop_.

"Stan," Louis says, because he knows Stan is fucking stubborn and will not let go (and Louis both loves and hates him for that), "do you think it's weird that I don't want to take Harry's money?"

Stan's eyebrows rise. "Oh, is that's what you are fighting about? Because it's stupid, Louis, I know you don't want anyone's help or whatever, I know you want to do everything yourself, but Styles loves you and if he wants to help you and give you money, you take it and fuck everyone who thinks it's wrong. Jesus, papers will write anything to get readers, you can't let them get to you, Tommo, you know that, right?"

Louis feels like his heart has fallen out of his chest and shattered on the balcony tiles. Stan had said _Styles loves you_  and it's enough for Louis to lose the walls he carefully built around everything Harry. He tries to be calm, tries to take a deep breath and another one, (because it always worked when he got injured on a school's football field and it hurt badly, but not badly enough to cry in front of his whole home town), but it doesn't help now, he feels the burning feeling in his eyes and he can't help but let tears fall, because it _hurts_ , and it hits him like a wall of bricks, the realization that no matter how much he wants to hate Harry, no matter how angry he is and how hard he tries to be this strong, _i am better than that_ person, he still loves Harry so fucking much and misses him and his stupid e-mails with stupid cat memes and stupidly perfect breakfasts they had and stupid kisses and stupid articles papers wrote about the famous model Styles and his newest boytoy Louis or Style's boyfriend cheating on him with his lovely coworker Eleanor (as if) and oh, stupid _i love you_ 's and it has been breaking him more and more every day, and Louis wonders if you can die from loving someone too much, wonders why a few hours ago he was convinced that he is getting over Harry and now he feels anything but that, and he's not silent anymore, sobs quietly first and then louder when Stan hugs him and holds and doesn't let go.

"Louis, Louis, come on," Stan is saying, his voice shaky and confused, "please, don't cry, everything is okay." Louis whines, makes a sound of protest, because _nothing_ is okay, and Stan doesn't sound so sure anymore, asks "you and Harry, you are okay, yeah?"  

And Louis needs to take a few breaths like shots of alcohol for courage to calm down and murmur quietly against Stan's neck that _no, we're not, Stan._ There are still tears in his eyes when he steps back from Stan, but his voice isn't shaking so much when he admits: "We broke up."

And it sounds so horrible said out loud, final like a nail in a coffin, and Stan looks lost and confused, and Louis thinks _me too_.

"It's serious, isn't it," Stan finally says, "it's not just a fight about money." Louis nods and Stan sighs loudly and heavily, runs a palm through his hair. And this is why Louis didn't tell anyone, he knew they will react like that, lost for words and not sure about how to help. So Louis takes a step back to go in the house, makes it easier for Stan.

"Come on, lets get drunk," he says, because he has a party to attend, and he has been away for far too long, doesn't want anyone else to find them. He thinks he would jump off that balcony if Gemma finds out about the break up a day before Christmas Eve. And there's a sad pull at his heart, because he will miss Gemma a lot, she's like a sister to him, but he's sure that he will never see her again after tonight. God, he won't probably see most of his friends anymore. It's so fucking sad.

"Louis..." Stan starts, but seems to know better. They will do it like they always do when something bad happens to Louis: get drunk tonight, then puke their guts out tomorrow, sleep all day and then Stan will make Louis talk, and Louis will hate Stan, but that's tomorrow, tonight Louis wants to get drunk.

 

~*~*~

"Mate," Niall goes for a hug, but trips and almost falls down on the face, laughing hysterically. Louis smiles and helps him to stand up properly. He and Stan have had two beers and Eleanor brought him another glass of champagne and he's dizzy enough to find Niall funny. He still wants to get drunk so Niall is coming right in time. Nobody can get you drunk faster than Niall.

"Mate," Niall says again, after getting his balance back and patting Louis' shoulder, "I think your other half misses you. He's moping in the kitchen. I think he's jealous that you are drinking with Stan."

Louis' smile fades and he's tipsy enough to not think things through, so he says: "He's none of my business, so you better help me get drunk, Nialler!" 

Niall blinks and laughs so loudly that everyone in the room looks at them. "Good one, Tommo! Now go get your boy before he starts crying in your cake." Niall pushes him in the direction of the door to make a point, and whatever, Louis can go and remind Harry that he was the one who asked Louis to come, so he should get a grip, only he doesn't really want to do that. He wants to get drunk and forget that he's a stupid idiot who still fucking loves Harry even after everything that has happened, and if he goes to that kitchen, he will say something regrettable ( _i love you_  and  _please take me back_  and  _let's go back to the start_ ) and Harry will laugh at him, and Louis may actually die if that happens. So he only goes to the hallway, just to get away from Niall. But of course Harry and Barbara get out of the kitchen at the same time, her almost pushing him out, apparently being on the same mission that Niall is, and smiling wickedly when she notices Louis.

"Louis, look, mistletoe!" she shouts all excited, and Louis can see what Niall sees in her, she's bubbly, reminds Louis of that champagne they had earlier, and now she's smiling like a devil, pointing at the green decoration above Louis' head, her excitement probably visible from the Moon. "Go on, boys, you can't break a tradition!"

"Yeah, boys," Gemma says, appearing behind Louis' back. "I bet you've been dying without each other, being apart for the last what... 30 minutes?" And she wraps a hand around Barbara's waist and kisses Barbara's cheek. They are both more than tipsy, Louis realizes, both of them giggling about Louis and Harry kissing under a mistletoe when usually Gemma would roll her eyes and Barbara would take photos and threaten to post them on twitter, so everyone can see how whipped the real Harry Styles is.

"Don't be creepy, Gems," Harry says. "Do we need to put a private show for you two with us making out?" Louis doesn't dare to look at him because his heart is still racing, trying to think of escape plans and hoping the ground will open and swallow him.

"Oh, now he's talking," Gemma laughs, "I seem to remember two of you making out every five minutes for the first few months," she adds. And now, _now_ is the time, Louis thinks, for that ground to open up, because he remembers too, remembers them kissing at bars and cafes and their apartments and Gemma's house and in cars, and even on Harry's photo set a few times, god, they made every paparazzi cry from joy with all the PDA, photos all over the press and internet, and all their friends rolled eyes and  _get a room_  was used instead of _hi_ or _hello_. And now Louis can't even remember the last kiss they had. He remembers all their firsts but doesn't remember their lasts, because there were never supposed to be last ones, they were supposed to be forever, and god, Louis can't remember their last kiss, or the last time they had sex or even the last time they hugged, last _i loves you's_ were probably spitted out during fights until they turned into _i hate you's_ and that's all Louis remembers now.

"Louis?" It's Gemma, waving a hand in front of his face, frowning. "Still with us, birthday boy?"

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking," Louis mumbles and steals a glance at Harry (maybe he will remember that as the last time he sees Harry). Harry looks... sad. And it's not just wishful thinking, hoping that Louis is not alone in this, because Louis knows his sad eyes and knows that look, that thin line his mouth makes, and Louis really wants to reach out and hug him, has to clasp his arms behind his back to not do it. Maybe he's supposed to be glad that Harry is not happy, but Louis knows now that he is pathetic, he hasn't learned not to care, not to wish Harry all the best, he still loves Harry and still would sell his soul to make Harry happy even if it's with Nick Fucking Grimshaw or anyone else that is not Louis.

"Jesus, you two really look like you need a good sleep or something tonight, it's depressing," Gemma says. "I am surprised papers are not talking about both of you being crack addicts or something," she sighs, and Louis has wondered about that too, about no news about them not being spotted together for weeks, thinks that maybe Harry has paid someone, there haven't been any paps at Louis' apartment or work, there aren't many usually, but Louis gets spotted at least once a week.

"Come on, Barbara, lets go and get some cake and let them snog or whatever," Gemma says, and Louis thinks they are lucky that she's been drinking, because Gemma is wicked smart, and would notice something is wrong when sober. Both girls disappear in the kitchen, and Louis is left alone with Harry, and he wants to say something, ask something, but as called Nick appears in the living room doorway with a bottle of wine in his hands.

"Styles, where have you been? Come on, let go off your boy for a minute and dance with me!" Nick hands Louis the bottle and grabs Harry's hand, and Louis wants to laugh about his own stupidity. Of course, of fucking course. 

"Nick, wait," Harry says, but Louis is not bothering anymore. He turns around and goes upstairs, hoping to find a bathroom where he can drink a bottle of wine while Harry is grinding against Nick. Fuck everything.

 

~*~*~

Louis is five gulps in (he mostly sits on the ground, back pressed against the bathtub and stares at the tiles, wine forgotten (it's too sweet anyway)) when someone knocks on the door. The right thing to do would be to flush water, pretend he's just using a toilet and open the door, but Louis is way too tired for that. The lack of sleep is starting to show, and he's glad that he gets two free days, because he needs sleep like air, his head is too full with confusing thoughts, and sleep will make everything better. He has seen a glimpse of his birthday gifts on the downstairs table and Gemma has got him some weird expensive art shit as per usual that Louis could sell and then pay for his flat and maybe cut off some extra hours for a while; so Louis is not bothering to pretend, just says "come in", and gets ready to get up, assuming someone wants to use the toilet.

It's Harry. Fuck his luck.

"Fuck my luck," Louis says and tries to get up. "Give me a moment," he murmurs. He's not really drunk and therefore clumsy, just tired and confused and wondering when and where he lost Stan's jacket, the bathtub feels cold against his thin t-shirt.

"Don't," Harry says and Louis looks up from where he sits, stops trying to move. Harry is biting his lips, they are red and lush, and Louis suddenly wants to kiss him, but Harry wants to kiss Nick, so it doesn't really work out for them. "I... can we talk?"

"I thought _we're done_?" And there it is, the mocking tone Louis' voice has developed, a coldness that surrounds his heart whenever he's reminded about Nick. Jealousy, Louis thinks, is the reason why kings went to wars and kingdoms fell, it's a stronger weapon than love will ever be, hardens your heart, makes you rough enough from the outside even if you are falling apart on the inside. 

"We are," Harry agrees quietly and finally walks inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk about... I can't keep the press and paps away forever, I need to give them a statement or something." Of course, it's about press, how naive of Louis to think that Harry cares about something... _someone_ else.

"Tell them the truth," Louis says and drinks a gulp of wine. It may be too sweet for his liking, but Harry hated when Louis drank milk or juice from bottles, always used fancy glasses himself, (Louis threw out all the glasses he had just so he could drink from bottles at his apartment all the time), and they are good at this, driving each other mad with tiny things. "Tell them you found a new boyfriend or whatever."

"Jesus, Louis," Harry sighs, and they have had this talk so many times that Louis already knows all the arguments. _He's just my friend_ and _stop being so jealous_ and _why you don't trust me_ , Louis has heard them all, and the truth is, he knows Harry is not actually cheating, god, he could swear on his life Harry never did it, but Harry knew that Louis hated how often Harry spent time with Nick, and he still went and did it, whenever Louis declined to go with Harry on one of those small photoshoot trips somewhere in Europe or America because he didn't want to use Harry's money all the time, Nick went instead, and there were always photos at the internet or gossip magazines with two of them having fun, everyone speculating if Harry and Nick are together, and it's like Harry did it to punish Louis for not going. Like Louis not wanting to be dependent on Harry's money was a crime, like it was a bad thing to want to earn his own money, like Louis already didn't have to deal with Harry paying for their apartment and food, and god, they really have had too many fights about this, why can't Harry just accept that?

"I can't believe you think I was cheating on you," Harry says, and for the first time he doesn't sound angry, doesn't raise his voice. Actually he sounds like Louis feels, a little bit too much broken. 

"I can't believe you think I think you were cheating," Louis replies, "god, Haz, I _trusted_ you, and... whatever. Maybe you should have fucked, at least Nick doesn't mind having a sugar daddy."

"Stop saying that," Harry mumbles and yeah, Louis doesn't know how to fight with Harry when he doesn't fight back. He's used to blow after blow, one nasty remark after another, used to Harry pulling at all his insecurities and doing the same back at Harry, so he feels a little bit lost at what to do. Just stares at Harry until he continues talking. "I hate it when you get upset about those articles, and I know it's my fault, and I wish I would be less famous and they would just leave you alone, but I can't and I just... I _know_ it was never about the money for you."

"Yeah..." Louis agrees. He gulps down another mouthful of wine and stretches out his arm, offering the bottle to Harry. _I will also remember the last time Harry didn't shout at me_ , he thinks.

Harry takes the bottle, seems to think for a while, then sits down next to Louis, far enough that their shoulders or knees don't touch. He drinks from a bottle, and Louis wants to smile. He will remember that as well. Maybe tell his grandkids one day.

"Why did you?" Harry asks, putting the bottle down between them, and Louis looks at him confused, waits for an explanation. "Why did you let me believe you think I am with Nick?"

"Because I hoped you will stop taking him with you everywhere," Louis admits. He feels like he has nothing to lose anyway, no pride to guard anymore. "I hated to see those photos of what I am missing out."

"But..." Harry says and both of them try to grab the wine bottle at the same time, Louis lets Harry take it, carefully avoiding the touch of Harry's fingers against his. "Why didn't you go with me then? I asked you so many times and you always said no."

And this is impossible to explain, Louis thinks, because there are million reasons, and most of them are as old as Harry is.

"I hate to always use your money," Louis says, "I know it's nothing for you and you don't care, but it's important to me. I've worked hard since I was fifteen, and I still want to work, I wan't to earn my own money, I want to be independent, I... my mom never worked, and when my dad left she didn't have anything, not a single penny, and she didn't even know how to work, because he was the one earning all our money. I don't want that, I don't want to depend on one person and end up having nothing one day if something happens." Harry hands Louis the bottle, but he puts it down. He doesn't want to get drunk anymore, doesn't think it will be fun at all.

"You never said that," Harry almost whispers, "I just... god, Lou," ( _the last time he called me Lou_ ), "I started to think you don't believe in us, don't believe we will last, you didn't wanted my money, wanted to keep your flat, never wanted to go out with me where someone would take a lot of photos, and even when I invited Nick instead and you got upset, you never did anything about it, never came with me instead. I thought you don't love me anymore."

Louis thought that it's impossible for his heart to break more but it happens. He thinks that if he would hold his breath and be really silent, you could hear it crash and burn, _woosh_ , because he can't believe what Harry is saying, can't believe he hurt Harry _like that_ when he though Harry is the one not loving him, and god, he knows how that feels, and now all he can think of is all those times he cried, all those times he felt like breaking down in the middle of streets, parks, at work, eating dinner, and thinks that Harry felt the same, and he feels sick to his stomach.

"You never said that either," Louis says, but without venom, he doesn't blame Harry for that, knows he never said anything either (because it was easier to say "you don't even care!" than ask "do you still love me?"), "And I thought that you gave up on me. And when I told you I didn't like you bringing Nick with you and you kept doing it anyway, I thought it's... well, yeah."

"I did it because it was the only thing you still seemed to care about," Harry's knee bumps against Louis on accident, and it feels like a burn, sharp and hot, "I preferred jealous you over that you who didn't care about anything. It's stupid and I knew it's making you mad, but then at least I felt like I have a hope."

They are stupid, Louis thinks, both of them. He wishes they would have had this conversation before everything turned into fighting and shouting. He says that out loud and adds his own confession about refusing to go with Harry anywhere because he knew how much Harry wanted that, even when he knew Harry will ask Nick to go with him. It was a sick cycle of masochism, Louis thinks, hurting someone because you are hurt and knowing that in return you will get more hurt. He can't remember why it seemed like a right thing to do anymore.

"We really are something," Harry sighs, and his knee is digging in Louis' leg now, they have shifted so that their shoulders are touching without noticing it. _Like two magnets_ , Liam used to say all the time. Louis doesn't notice he's shivering from the cold bathtub until Harry leans forward to take his black blazer off and the puts it on Louis' shoulders.

"Thanks," Louis says, a little bit lost in the warmth and smell of Harry ( _of home_ ) that is surrounding him. "I still love you," he adds, just like that. It doesn't hurt to admit it anymore, it feels like a relief, like he doesn't have to hide anything anymore, doesn't have to pretend to be strong, because he's not anymore, because Harry is the one making him strong, and without him Louis is anything but that.

" _Lou,_ " Harry's voice breaks, and suddenly there are two warm hands on his upper arms, turning him, then wrapping around his waist and pulling him in. Harry tastes like wine, sugary sweet, and Louis melts against him, his hands clenched in Harry's shirt, he makes a desperate noise in his throat, a small whine, because this can't, just can't be the last kiss he will remember, and Harry's tongue is sliding over his and Louis can feel Harry's heart racing under his palm, and it makes him dizzy with _want_ and _need_ , and he has to swallow hard to keep in another whine when Harry pulls back, cheeks coloring pink and green eyes shining in the bathroom's light, and then he leans in again and hugs Louis so tightly it almost hurts, warm hands around Louis' waist and curls of hair tickling his neck, Louis' own arms wrapping around Harry's neck on instinct, and Louis has to bite his lip to not cry, because Harry is saying _i missed you, i missed you so fucking much_ and _i love you_ and _i thought i will die without you_ and then they are kissing again, Louis biting on Harry's lip, chasing for that soft moan he loves to hear. And it's only when Louis tries to lean back and pull Harry with him and the bottle of wine tips over from his hand and clanks loudly against the floor when Louis realizes what is happening, stops and pulls back.

"Wait, wait, Harry, stop," he says and lets go of Harry's shirt, picks up the bottle before wine spills everywhere. Harry looks dazed and lost. "We can't just... We have to talk. I mean, we have to talk about what we will do."

It's silly, Louis thinks, but he can't do it all over again, he wants to talk with Harry, wants to find a way how to be together and not worry about money and Nick and stupid things, and he wants it before he opens up his heart again, he doesn't want this to remember this as their last time, and he hopes Harry doesn't want it either.

"Can we..." Harry starts and for a moment he looks unsure, and Louis takes his hand and squeezes it. Harry squeezes it back and smiles, and it feels like they are teenagers, holding hands for the first time, shy and awkward, and giddy with joy at the same time. "Can we go home? We could talk there, maybe?" Harry's voice is small, fingers still squeezing Louis' palm, and Louis is suddenly reminded that Harry is actually younger than he is, not even twenty years old, and it must be scary and hard for him just as much as it is for Louis. They will teach you all kinds of things at school like how to dissect a frog or why Dickens wrote "Great Expectations" or how Newton's first law of motion works, but nobody tells you how to deal with all these crazy emotions and feelings, like love and hope and anger and jealousy, there is no course or lessons about how to be together with someone and not fail at it, how to not fight and how to forgive, yet everyone is expected to know all these things and be good at them, and it's hard, because Louis is young and he still sometimes calls his mum to ask if his shirt can be washed in a washing machine or should it be hand washed or what to use to get coffee stains out of the carpet, honestly most of the time he feels like a blind man stumbling and trying to guess the right way. 

"Yeah, yeah, we can," Louis smiles and gets up, because he might not know what to do, but he wants to go _home_. He pulls Harry up with him, tiredness forgotten. "Let's go home!"

Home, home, home,  _their home!_ Louis can't stop smiling about it and Harry smiles back and then they are walking, almost running out of the bathroom, holding hands, leaving the wine bottle forgotten. Downstairs the party is still going, it's still early and Harry wants to go and find Gemma, warn her they are leaving now, and Louis wants to find Stan, let him know that he's okay, not drowning himself in Gemma's pool or something, but they end up under the mistletoe and Harry presses Louis against the wall and kisses him so hard that Louis feels breathless and dizzy, feels like Harry's hands are the only force keeping him up, doesn't care about Gemma or Stan or anyone else but _Harry, Harry, Harry._  

"I'll text Gemma," Harry says against Louis' lips, smiles, stepping back and pulling Louis gently with him, grabs their coats from a hanger on their way out. Louis follows him, would follow even to the end of the world.

 

~*~*~

It takes forty minutes to get from Gemma's house to their flat. Since they can't kiss and hold hands properly (because Harry drives carefully, both hands on the wheel and Louis doesn't want to die young somewhere on a slippery road), they end up talking. At first it's careful, feels like walking on eggshells, they are obviously afraid to break the tiny bridge built between them, but they both have learned a lesson, know where unsaid things lead, so they end up saying things they want to say instead of things they think the other wants to hear. It's hard because Louis still wants to work, his boss wants him to become a manager soon and it would mean a big raise and less working hours for Louis, but he also wants to go on those photoshoots and trips and red carpet events with Harry and wants to stop worrying about how everyone in their country thinks Louis just wants Harry's money, he wants to let Harry spoil him and wants to be spoiled, and somehow they end up talking about what Louis really wants to do, what his dream job would be, and then there are scary words like _University_ and _English_ and _teaching kids_ , and Harry asks Louis to think about it, and maybe, just maybe Louis could be okay with leaving his job and going to University instead, because eventually he could end up doing what he always wanted to do, and he would have more free time, and they talk about _trust_ and _future_ and _together_  until Gemma texts Harry "where are you???" followed by "if you're having sex in my bedroom, i'll kill you both!!!" and Harry calls her to apologize about leaving so early and tells her they wanted to go home and rest. Louis can hear Gemma's sighs and threats about not giving Louis his gifts for running away from his own party before midnight and actual birthday starting, but he knows Gemma is joking, hears her asking with concern if Louis is okay.

While they talk Stan texts Louis with worried "where are u? did smth happen?" and Louis replies with a quick "i'm with h." and then Stan sends back "??? u two are good?" and Louis feels like typing hundreds of smiley faces back, but they already have arrived, Harry's done with parking his car and talking with Gemma, so Louis ends up kissing Harry in the car and taking a blurry photo of them. He sends it to Stan while Harry laughs against his neck and Stan replies with "EWWWW!" and then ":))))" and then Harry's phone beeps with a message from Stan, some threats about what will happen to Harry if he breaks Louis' heart and Stan is obviously drunk, but Harry replies him anyway, promises he will give himself up to Stan if he does that and Louis thinks that his heart might not take it. He's so used to feeling angry, desperate, sad, disappointed, all those negative things for weeks and weeks, and it might take time to get used to being happy again. 

They kiss against the car after Harry gets out and opens the door for Louis, slow and sweet, until they shiver from the cold air, coats left in the car forgotten, they kiss in the elevator on it's way up to the top floor, Harry's hands sliding under Louis' t-shirt, and they kiss against their apartment's door until Louis feels like he's going to melt from the warmth of Harry's body pressing against his. Harry is kissing his neck, murmuring lovely nothings against Louis' skin, biting and leaving marks, and Louis is gripping Harry's shoulders, eyes closed and mouth open, trying and failing not to moan. Somehow Harry manages to find his keys and unlock the door and they stumble inside. Louis turns on the light and breathes in the familiar smell of home, of coffee and hollyberry scented candles that Harry's obsessed with, of Harry's favorite aftershave and (still) of  _Gucci Guilty_  perfume that Harry bought Louis a few months ago and Louis purposely left behind, and he has to turn around and kiss Harry once more before they take off shoes and stumble to the living room. 

It's a mess, countless coffee mugs and papers and photos and even rumpled clothes everywhere. Harry is the least messy boy Louis has ever known, Louis is a hurricane compared to him, so he's taken aback by the view, notices a pillow and a blanket on the couch and wonders if someone else stayed with Harry. Wonders if it was Nick. Wonders will he ever stop being jealous even when there is no reason to be. 

"Sorry," Harry murmurs against his neck, wrapping hands around Louis from behind. "I was a mess without you, Lou. Couldn't sleep in the bed without you either." He points to the couch where he apparently slept instead.

Louis turns around and kisses Harry, hot and desperate, because his heart feels like breaking again and it's too much, and Harry's kisses are like medicine, makes him happy and dizzy and painless, and Harry leads them to their bedroom where everything is just like it was when Louis left, his drawers of their dresser are still empty and open, so are doors of the closet, the bed is unmade and the dust has settled on photo frames and bedside tables. The clock on Harry's side shows 00:06 in big red numbers and it's six minutes in Louis' birthday and Harry is murmuring _happy birthday, boobear_ in his neck, and Louis can't help but smile, let go and let his heart fall. 

 

~*~*~

They undress slowly, in some ways it feels like the first time, Louis' fingers are shaky and unsteady on Harry's shirt buttons, and he bites his lip nervously when his t-shirt is being taken off by Harry; and in other ways it's all familiar and well known, the way Harry bites his shoulder gently and traces slow circles on his back, the way Harry's chest feels pressed against his, the way their knees bump when both of them try to take each other's trousers and underwear off at the same time, even sheets still smell like mix of them both _,_  and Harry's weight is familiar on him when Louis lies down on his back on the bed and so is the slow rhythm Harry sets rocking his hips against Louis'. They try to take their time, touching and kissing every bit of each other, because they've missed it so much, because Louis can never get enough of Harry, but Harry is sucking sloppy bruises on Louis' neck and then biting on his pulse point, making Louis' eyes roll back a bit, his breath catching, and he can't help but push his hips up, legs falling open a little wider and a flush of arousal sweeping through him.

"Please," he murmurs, because he wants more and because Harry's mouth is hot against his skin, traveling downwards, leaving kisses like small fires on Louis' hot skin. Harry's fingers are holding his hipbones unbearably gently, like Harry is afraid to break him, and Louis can't stop the small whine escaping his mouth. 

"Shhh," Harry murmurs against the hollow of Louis' hip, biting the skin of it lightly. His left palm starts stroking Louis' hip calmingly, agonizingly slowly and Louis has to grip the bedsheets to stop his hips from moving up, he's hard, cock leaking precome already, and he just wants Harry to _do something_.

"Fuck, Harry," he swears, voice strained, "will you just..."

He chokes on air when Harry moves up suddenly, pulls away from Louis, grabs him by his waist and flips him over on the stomach with no warning. And he almost bites his arm, murmurs litany of _shit, fuck, Haz_ , when Harry's palms slide down roughly and grab his hips, pull them up in the air. Harry's laughing lightly, resting his weight on his palms on both sides of Louis' shoulders, leaning down to kiss them, then turning Louis' head to kiss his lips. It tastes like sweat and salt from Louis' skin and wine from earlier and Louis feels dizzy with lust, pushes up against Harry's body, actually giggles when Harry gasps from the unexpected trust and almost falls on Louis.

"Lube?" Louis murmurs in the pillow as Harry regains his balance, presses a damp palm on Louis' neck, keeping him down.

"Yeah," Harry says and he sounds breathless. "Shit, Lou, you look fucking gorgeous like this," he says and leans down to leave a few more warm kisses on the line of Louis' spine. He moves then, crawls across the bed to find lube in the bedside drawer, Louis can hear him open the bottle and moves back, spreads his legs eagerly and smiles to himself when Harry draws in a sharp breath. Harry is careful, slides in one finger first, only adds another when Louis begs for more. It hurts a little, been to long since their last time, but Louis still remembers how much better it can get. And it does, he moans shamelessly and moves his hips up and down as Harry's fingers work him open. When Harry adds the third finger Louis feels like his mind is shutting down, his knees getting weak and he feels the hot pressure building inside, knows he will come too fast if Harry doesn't stop, tries to move away his hips from Harry's grasp.

" _Haz,_ " he growls.

"I know, I know," Harry says, voice soothing, and slides his fingers out, leaving Louis empty and wanting. He feels the tip of Harry's cock brushing against his opening, waits for the familiar push, but Harry freezes suddenly, withdraws a little bit and Louis turns his head, frowning. "Are you... I mean... we don't need a condom, right?" Harry murmurs, and there's a sad and shaky tone in his voice, because the real question behind the one asked is totally different.

Louis turns over on his back, looks up into Harry's green eyes, full with worry now. He smiles and shakes his head, because of course not, he could never, not really, not for a long time. He can't imagine wanting anyone else ever, god, even when they decided it's over and done, Harry was still Louis' everything and he didn't even tried to look in another direction, much less to sleep with someone. Maybe they really are each other's forever and after.

"No, of course not," he says and puts a palm on Harry's neck, pulls him down for a kiss. Their cocks brush against each other and Louis grunts, remembers what they were about to do. "Come on, sweetheart, fuck me," he says, bites Harry's bottom lip and pulls his legs up against his chest.

"You say the sweetest things," Harry laughs and moves up on his heels, finds the lost bottle of lube, pours some of it in his palm and strokes himself a few times before leaning over Louis again. And then his moving, pushing inside Louis slowly, and Louis is left breathless. He can feel the small sting of it, but it feels too good to stop, he missed this, missed being full and he has to take a deep breath and exhale out slowly, because Harry is _finally_ fully in and Louis feels like he could come just from the raw feeling of it. Harry is leaning down again, kissing bruises he left on Louis' collarbones earlier and Louis' cock brushes against Harry's stomach and he shudders from the shock of pleasure that runs through him. Finally, finally Harry starts to move, sets a slow and steady rhythm, his cock dragging inside Louis and making him moan with every thrust. Louis can't help but hold onto Harry's shoulders, knows he will leave marks and scratches ( _mine, mine, mine_ ), but Harry loves it, moves a little faster, trusts a bit rougher, his breath changes from shaky to noisy, and he murmurs quiet _Lou, Lou, Lou-s_  in between moans and tiny sounds. He shifts and changes the angle, hitting that spot that sends hot pleasure through Louis' entire body.

Harry moves fast and hard, fucks Louis wildly, his hands leaving finger shaped bruises on Louis' hips and thights, and Louis closes his eyes and shudders, clenches around Harry once more before he's coming, shooting come all over Harry's and his own chest. He feels Harry slamming inside him, is vaguely aware of that moment when Harry stops, shudders and comes inside Louis with a loud groan, but he's mind is too foggy, and he only grunts and opens his eyes when Harry collapses on him. They both are breathless and sweaty, Harry is inhaling and exhaling heavily against Louis' neck and Louis tries to move, because his muscles are too tired to deal with all of Harry's weight on him.  He wants to say _move_ and _get off_ , but it's like his brain can't figure out how to make words, makes a small whine instead.

Harry pulls out slowly, kisses Louis before getting up and walking to the bathroom to get a washcloth and Louis can only admire Harry's strength, because he's pretty sure he won't be able to move for a few days. He feels Harry cleaning both of them up, makes a noise of protest when Harry tries to make him move, but doesn't actually mind getting a pillow under his head. A moment later all lights are off and Harry curls up next to him, throws a blanket over both of them. He kisses Louis' jaw and cheeks and noise, leaves tiny kisses on his right shoulder and the last thing Louis remembers is trying to say _i love you_.

 

~*~*~

Harry is wearing old gray sweatpants and his naked shoulders are covered in marks from Louis' nails and fingers, and Louis is kissing every bruise, hands wrapped around Harry's waist, while Harry cooks them both pancakes. Harry has cancelled all his plans until the middle of January earlier that week and Louis has a plan to ask for unpaid vocation from his workplace later, they will celebrate Louis' birthday today, visit their parents tomorrow and then go to Italy for a few days before New Year's Eve, find a place for them and their friends. Louis lets Harry to dream and doesn't insist on buying his own plane tickets; he's too happy and too hungry to think about anything, listens to Harry's voice talking about future and Italy and what they will do.

Everyone and their mum know Louis' birthday date, and it's obvious that the lack of tweets or photos has made a fuss in twitter and some gossip sites too. A tumblr site named _fuckyeahharryandlouis_ (and Louis still can't believe it's a thing, a site dedicated to his and Harry's relationship, he's too used to gossip magazines and random people hating him, calling him a  gold digger, wishing him dead even though after two years the generic public loves Louis because he loves Harry) is full with sad fans talking about something not being right, some speculate that Harry's break has to do something with drugs, some talk about how nobody has actually seen Louis and Harry together for a month, and Louis knows all of this only because his mum has called this morning to ask if everything is okay (Louis swears his mum knows internet better than he does, he wouldn't be surprised if she owns a tumblr account as well while he avoids it like fire, too afraid of what he could see there after he once accidentally clicked on a slash fic link). 

He's thinking about tweeting something maybe, because he wants people to talk only good things about Harry, when Harry says "Smile!" and Louis looks up from his phone and smiles automatically and then sighs, because Harry has taken a photo with him.

"Can I upload it to my instragram?" Harry asks and smiles the dimpled smile that Louis can never resist, so he just nods, doesn't even try to fight it. He still feels too dizzy with love and happiness and Harry, can't think of words or sentences to tweet anyway. He opens Instragram to check out what Harry has posted a few seconds ago. The photo already has over 50 likes and some comments. It's the most ridiculous photo and at one point Louis will probably be ashamed (when he remembers that his mom and sisters follow Harry on Instagram), but right now he can't be bothered. In the photo he's sitting behind their kitchen table, there's a dish with half eaten pancakes in front of him and a cup of tea ("I <3 HARRY" printed on it with bold, pink letters) as well, Louis is wearing Harry's old sweatpants (too big on him) and Harry's t-shirt (one of those expensive YSL ones, that Louis usually avoids, but this one is warm, worn out and smelled like Harry, when Louis tried to find something to wear), the cut is quite low and a few dark bruises are clearly visible on Louis' neck and collarbones, and his hair looks ridiculous and he's biting his lip, smiling at the camera (caught by surprise), holding his phone in one hand and a fork in the other. Harry has added a caption "sorry for mia, we were busy", and Louis cracks up about that one. 

"Shameless," he murmurs and puts the phone down. Later Stan will tweet the kiss photo (as a revenge for Louis) and Harry and Louis will be spotted here and there in the city (doing literary last minute shopping for Christmas), and their fans will talk about how happy they are and gossip sites will speculate about how it looks too good to be true, but none of it will matter to Louis. They will spend the evening decorating their flat for Christmas Eve, trying to bake gingerbread cookies, cuddling on the couch, watching Christmas movies and getting drunk on mulled wine. They will dance and laugh, have sex and fall asleep later and sleep in the next day, they will show up late at Anne's house and even later at Jay's, have snowball fights with Louis' sisters and there will be Christmas presents and a flight to Italy, and later there will be many more trips, and Louis will apply for University, and there will be fights as well, Nick will still be Harry's friend and still make Louis a little bit grumpy, and he will still refuse to wear thousand dollar shirts to Harry's expensive fashion parties, and Harry will still sometimes forget that Louis can't go everywhere with him, but there will also be soulmates and forever and happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> (This is what happens when I want to write fluff at 2AM, ha ha ha, it's 7 AM now, please take my computer away. P.S. [tumblr](http://babyoflouis.tumblr.com/).)


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